What do Oprah, Josh Gad, and Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson all have in common? The answer to this pub question for the ages is that each of them competed at the National Speech and Debate Tournament. Since it was established in 1931, the world’s largest academic competition has brought thousands upon thousands of middle and high school students together to debate current events. What’s key though is the stories every competitor brings with them, the unique, personalized anecdotes that imbue each speech with a humanity that’s all-too-often lost behind generic newspaper headlines.
In “Speak“, directors Jennifer Tiexiera and Guy Mossman follow five such individuals on their journey to the championships, five wildly different American teens who each juggle this pressure with their own distinct wants and needs over the course of a year. Sudan-born Mfaz Mohamed Ali (17) organically practices public speaking daily through TikTok posts made for her 3.3 million followers. “Passion is key to oratory,” says Mfaz, and that rings true in every word of her earnest delivery, whether she’s sharing a heartfelt account of shame she’s felt or whether she’s arguing for more compassionate representation of Muslims in today’s media.
Another promising competitor, Esther Oyetunji (17), actually won twice before, so all eyes are on this American-born daughter of a pastor from Nigeria who could make history if she wins again for a third time. Her focus this year is on the way politicians use “protect the children” rhetoric to maintain power, all while actual problems that impact American youth such as school shootings go ignored. Esther’s coach says her “superpower” is “genuine compassion and love for what she’s talking about,” which, while indeed accurate, also applies to the rest we follow here too, including Noor Garoui (17), who advocates for her disabled younger brother, Sam Schaefer (16), who fights against the straight white cis majority weaponizing nostalgia, and Noah Chao-Detiveaux (17), who demands dignity for people who die by suicide like his mother did a few years prior.
All heavy topics in their own way, each pulls at our hearts with great vigour, whether it be through tears or righteous anger. But Tiexiera and Mossman don’t just rely on this to make “Speak” sing. Otherwise, the film would be a mere series of speeches, akin to sitting in the NSDA audience during one of the tournaments. Instead, the pair get up close and personal with their five subjects, balancing out the importance of their speeches and the social issues they face with moments of levity and day-to-day life in their family homes.
Whether they’re raising pigs, going to church or choosing their outfit for a Taylor Swift concert, the kids at the heart of this documentary are still kids, and “Speak” doesn’t shy away from this or overlook why that matters. In fact, it’s in these moments where the film often works best, juxtaposing just how impressive and mature each of their speeches are with the mundanity of their teenage realities. Remember, as adult as they sound in front of the judges, these competitors are also kids getting butterflies over prom or snapping at their parents when the tournament gets a bit too much.
Documentaries like this often live or die on the likeability of their subjects, and “Speak” largely succeeds on that front, although this balance between the ordinary and the anything-but-ordinary pressure they face doesn’t quite flow at times. There is a lot on the line, including vital campaigning (“If we don’t do well here, we don’t get to advocate anymore”) plus scholarship money they need to help secure their futures, so it’s easy to understand why they’re so driven, even using coaches to advance their oratory skills. In that regard, “Speak” is reminiscent of sport documentaries like “Hoop Dreams” as well as competition based features such as the somewhat similar classic doc “Spellbound”. “If we define sport as competition, then speech is the ultimate sport,” it’s said at one point — yet the film itself doesn’t quite have a grasp on how to effectively thread that competitive throughline in without losing momentum.
The usual beats of victory and defeat are included, yes, but aside from one painful breakdown (plus a few outbursts from Noah), “Speak” doesn’t possess the same kind of momentum that traditionally drives “sport” docs in this vein. Some stages of the competition are glossed over more quickly than others and key results are often just mentioned in passing without the key reaction scenes you might expect. The idea of course is that the focus should be on the kids and their message rather than who wins or loses, but this is the Super Bowl of public speaking and some extra, much-needed tension could have easily been wrung out of that without detracting from the core of the film’s message.
Yet that message still does shine through thanks to the teens themselves, who all intrigue in their own way. Each could have arguably been the sole focus of a documentary without moving back and forth between the others, which speaks to the charisma that’s helped each of them make it this far in the first place. That’s almost to the film’s detriment too because just when you’re keen to learn more about one of them, that focus shifts again, making for a somewhat shallower experience at times. The benefit of this approach though is how threads begin to form between each subject as they’re all united by a desire to speak up and make a difference by giving voice to their own marginalized experiences, and by extension, others who are similar to them. Public speaking, even when it’s this competitive and cutthroat, provides them a space of belonging, a place where teenagers can feel included and have their ideas affirmed in a more adult, respected space.
That personal growth is just as important as the speeches themselves, although the two are inevitably intertwined. Each time Noah tells a new group of strangers his story, reliving the death of his mother again and again, he also comes to understand his father better in the wake of this tragedy. Another story about a mother’s cookies is deeply stirring too, and that’s before we even get to hear most of the speeches in full. That’s saved for the end, understandably, which is where “Speak” manifests its true power. Yet after the credits rolled, I was left with a nagging feeling that these individual speeches still hold said power more than the actual film, which doesn’t always quite have a handle on how to harness the full potential of what these teens have to say.
Still, at this point in history, just seeing see young people give a fuck is inspiring in its own way. It’s vital that storytellers like those found here continue striving for a platform and give voice to the marginalized whose own stories are so often drowned out in an endless sea of media chatter. “Speak” does exactly that, even if the film itself could have benefitted from a clearer, stronger voice of its own.
Grade: B-
“Speak” premiered at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival. It is currently seeking U.S. distribution.
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